[Frank]

Lee peered through the kitchen blinds at his growing gardens Grandest Tree
The orange sun light kisses his forehead, turning his sweat rancidly sweet
The aromatic breeze drying the fabric of sheets. Swirling clouds: candid mystique.
Lee examined the leaf, looking for damaging teeth: Creepy crawly famine disease
Kneeling down; into the soil; onto his arthritic bandaged knees: with balance and ease,
Lee pleaded with the Seasons in a manic speech: waving his cane, made of branches
deceased
Lee uses his hand to see: panting beads forming as he scanned the serene -
Yellow-Orangish vanishing gleam... Lee's wife in the doorway, inaudible in her baking apron like enchanting dreams
Spreading jam on a piece of toast, she watches from the window: orientally fanning displeased...
The southern peninsula overlooked the microscopic cities bustling metropolis: the trams phantom debris
Businesses depended on this man Lee for his profitable crops that yielded year after year from his native land of Beijing
Lee's neighbors kids play jovially and jubilantly in their backyard on trampolines
Lee plants a seed, watering it with a pail with a handle that leaks as it transfers the stream -
They say you reap what you sow: that the fruits of our labor are prepared to eat
With less then the span of a week, Lee is forced to abort, cutting it short with his advantageous tree: as A Panda flees
Ripe for the picking, he reaches into his orange patch, pulling off The Tangerine